


three chords and you're into jazz

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: wishbone, backbone, funny bone [2]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Richie, Car Sex, Dirty Talk, First Times, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Voyeurism, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 14:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: First they'reEddieandRichie.Then they'reEddieandRichieandBill.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is kind of a prequel but also kind of a sequel to _three piece romance_. first chapter is totally reddie-centric, chapter 2 is lots of fooling around, and bottom richie is in chapter 3! not a lot of plot here, it's really mainly just smut bc why not.
> 
> enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie gets a car for his birthday; he and Richie make lots of memories in that car.

The car is a belated sweet sixteen gift from a friend of a friend of a friend of Mrs. K. (Belated, because Eddie gets it two months shy of his seventeenth birthday. The card stuck under the windshield wiper proudly proclaims _HAPPY SWEET SIXTEEN_. Late or not, it’s the thought that counts.)

It’s ugly as fuck: burnt orange, like a muddy sienna crayon; the front bumper kind of sags, and the rearview mirror is perpetually crooked. The seats are old, cracked leather in a dark brown, and springs tend to crawl through the numerous tears and poke the boys in inconvenient places.

But it’s Eddie’s car—all his own, and that’s what matters. He pays for car washes and gas and tune ups. The whole shebang. His mother doesn’t kick in a lick, doesn’t want to after he fought her tooth-and-nail to even let him get a car. ( _Too dangerous_ , she’d said. _You have a perfectly good bike, what do you need a car for, Edward, honestly_.)

But it’s _his_. And he cherishes the hideous beast to a point that Richie almost, _almost_ finds alarming.

Not that Richie can really judge; he doesn’t even have a car.

Besides, Eddie having a car means less furtive fooling around in Eddie’s bedroom with the door open and less waiting around for the Tozier home to be empty. Instead, they go parking, and if you ask Richie, well. It’s as good as the movies make it out to be. Better than, even.

 

The first time Richie suggests it, he gets smacked on the arm hard enough to bruise. Eddie is blushing bright red—apparent even under the dim streetlights flickering by—and chattering on heatedly.

 _“That’s a terrible idea, Richie. We could get_ caught _, you know! My mother would kill me if the sheriff caught us over on fucking, fucking Lover’s Lane or whatever they call it! She would kill me, and then kill you, and no one would ever find the bodies, because we would be_ dead _. Do you understand me Tozier?”_

Before Richie could agree (yes, he understands, got it, never bring it up again), Eddie had taken a sharp left out of town. The road beneath the wheels turns rocky and dusty as they end up off the beaten path. Richie watches with wide eyes as the central heart of Derry disappears in the rearview mirror, and fields and trees open up on the path before them instead.

The longer they drive, the heavier their breathing gets. Richie has half a mind to worry that Eddie’s going to go into an asthma attack, but he doesn’t get a chance to voice the concern. Just when he’s ready to reach into the center console for Eddie’s spare inhaler, Eddie throws the car into park.

Richie’s stopped from slamming into the dashboard by Eddie’s hand on his chest, which is only there to help Eddie leverage himself into Richie’s lap.

“Uh.” Richie says eloquently, though his hands find Eddie’s hips obediently.

“I fucking hate you, Tozier,” Eddie whines.

“I really, really don’t think you do,” Richie says with wonder as his eyes roam over Eddie’s body. “Like, not even a little bit.”

Eddie growls and kisses Richie hard enough to hurt.

 

That’s the first memory they make in Eddie’s car. It happens the night after Eddie’s seventeenth birthday.

The second is carving their initials inside the left passenger door; the plastic is old and relents easily under a box knife. They do it the same night they _do it_ (well, some of it) in the passenger seat, and Eddie grins at Richie in a way that makes him dizzy.

The third memory they make is a couple months later, when they use Eddie’s car to waterbomb the rest of the Loser’s on their way home from school.

The fourth memory through the seventeenth are a combination of the first and third memories. They fool around, they go parking, they do a lot (but not _all_ of it). (The tenth memory is Richie blowing Eddie against the hood of the car behind the Aladdin.) A lot of the memories are ones of mischief, goofing around like teenagers do, coupled with more and more fooling around. These memories cumulate over the course of a year and two months. The pranks grow more and more infrequent as the other Losers get cars of their own, becoming harder and harder targets. The fooling around never seems to cease, though.

The eighteenth memory is a lot like the first, and just after Eddie’s eighteenth birthday.

They drive out to the same spot as before and park under the same tree. Eddie moves first but instead of climbing to Richie’s lap again he slides into the backseat. Richie watches his boyfriend go, impossibly graceful as he gets into the backseat without opening a door or putting a front seat down.

Eddie watches him with heavy-lidded eyes. “C’mon, Richie.”

Richie can’t decide where to look and as his gaze flicks around he realizes there’s a soft, plush blanket spread over the backseat.

Far less gracefully, Richie clambers after his boyfriend. Richie and ends up half on the floor, mostly upside down. “Er, help?”

Smiling, Eddie reaches down and hauls Richie with a surprising amount of strength into the space beside him. Once Richie is settled, Eddie’s touch wanders slowly up Richie’s arm to his neck, then his cheek, into his hair.

“Eddie.” Richie breathes. “Are you sure?”

Eddie nods. “I’m sure.” His already soft expression softens further, somehow. “Are _you_ sure?”

Richie kisses him and whispers the answer against his lips, “fuck yeah.” Eddie grins into the kiss and tightens his hold on Richie’s hair. Eddie tugs once and when he starts to lay back, Richie follows. It takes some adjusting, some amount of fluidity that neither of them have learned yet, but eventually they end up mostly comfortable. The windows are cracked and the summer air is wafting in but despite the breeze, Richie feels sweaty and like he’s sticking to the seat.

“I love you,” he says, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. The feeling of Eddie under him, the scent of summer swirling around them, the heat resting over them both like a blanket. “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

Eddie is still grinning. “I love you too.” He nuzzles his nose against Richie’s. “Do you know how long it took me to disinfect the car?”

Richie laughs and kisses Eddie again. “Did you bring, uh.” He falters and his skin heats up even more, and idly he wonders how he’s not scalding Eddie.

“Lube?” Eddie finishes with an equally bright blush. “Yeah.” He throws a hand over the seat and digs around on the floor. There’s a crinkling sound, and Richie peeks to watch him rifle through a bag. Eventually, Eddie holds out a small tube of clear slick, hand shaking.

Richie takes the bottle from him and holds his hand tight. “We don’t have to.”

“Let’s just get naked,” Eddie inhales, exhales, “and see where this goes. Okay?”

Richie nods.

Again, it takes a talent neither of them have mastered to undress in the cramped backseat of a car, but just like before they manage. Richie hits his head against the roof when he shrugs off his shirt, and Eddie knees him in the stomach when he’s trying to wriggle out of his pants. All told, they’re both going to have some bruises and sore backs—but it’s worth it.

Richie lays down carefully and slots his body against Eddie. He shivers. “Holy fuck.”

Eddie nods. “You said it.” He cups Richie’s cheeks and pulls him in for a kiss. “Still okay?”

“Yeah,” Richie replies. “You?”

“Yeah.” Eddie rolls his hips and his hardening cock brushes against Richie’s, and they both hiss. “I want… I want to,” he says softly.

Richie nods. “Let me touch you first, okay? Just, let me,” he trails off as he drops his hand between their bodies to take Eddie’s cock in hand. He starts to stroke, slow and careful, just as he knows Eddie likes it. “I wish I could get my mouth on you,” he murmurs. “I think I’d break my neck if I tried, but it would be worth it.”

Eddie laughs and it dissolves into a moan. “Oh, fuck, Richie,” he shudders as Richie’s thumb swipes over the leaking slit of his prick.

Richie watches the expressions flicker across Eddie’s face like he’s watching a masterpiece—and in a way, he thinks, he is. Because this is all for him, Eddie at his most raw, and it’s beautiful and relentless and Richie thinks his heart might burst from his chest. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Richie says it under his breath but in the silence of the car, Eddie hears him loud and clear.

“Richie, I want you to fuck me,” Eddie gasps out. He’s pushing his hips into Richie’s hand desperately, and biting his lip in the way that says he’s trying so hard not to come. “Please, Richie, where’d you put the lube?”

“Fuck, shit, uh.” Reluctantly, Richie lets go of Eddie to dig around for the lube. He finds it back on the floor underneath his pants, and once he has it in hand he stops. “Uh, okay. Start with one?”

Eddie, flushed and hair askew, nods.

Richie nods, more to himself than Eddie, and uncaps the lube carefully. It oozes out of the bottle and across his fingers. It’s greasy and sticky and flavorless. He recaps the tube and drops it back to the floor.

“Wait, wait,” Eddie stops him as he drops a hand between Eddie’s thighs. “You gotta warm it up first.”

Richie wriggles his fingers and realizes it is awfully cold. He folds his hand together and coats the lube thoroughly across his hand and when he’s satisfied, he drags a single fingertip along the inside of Eddie’s thigh. “Better?” He checks.

Eddie nods. “Yeah, okay.”

Richie swallows and presses a single finger against Eddie’s hole. It’s tight, but the skin gives and Richie’s finger sinks in slowly. It’s impossibly warm and Richie gets dizzy at the thought of his cock inside the heat. He pushes in until he’s in up to the knuckle, and then he waits.

“You can move,” Eddie tells him after a few moments.

“You sure?” Richie asks, uncertain but desperate for more of the feeling.

“Yes,” Eddie says in a drawn-out groan. “I’ve fingered myself before,” and that’s true, because he let Richie watch, “I can take it.”

“I’ve died,” Richie mutters as he draws his finger out, and then presses back in. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Eddie knees him gently in the side. “More.”

Richie hesitates for barely a moment before pulling out and pushing in with two fingers. Eddie feels even tighter, and Richie thrusts even slower. Eddie doesn’t relax quite as fast but his mouth is still open in a perfect ‘o’ shape, and little desperate gasps are tumbling from his lips.

“Eddie, baby, talk to me.”

Eddie’s eyes snap open. “Fuck, Richie.”

And that’s all he really needs. Richie keeps fucking Eddie with two fingers, until he gets another knee to the side and another demand for _“more.”_ Richie presses three fingers in and freezes at Eddie’s pained gasp.

“It’s just a lot,” he says. “Hang on.”

Richie nods frantically. Eddie’s cock is starting to soften from the pain, and Richie watches with mesmerized eyes as Eddie starts to stroke himself. It keeps his cock mostly hard, not like it was before, but the sight—Richie’s fingers inside him, Eddie’s hand on himself—is so fucking good.

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. “Okay, keep going.”

Richie starts to thrust with three fingers and Eddie matches the timing of his strokes to Richie’s rhythm, and Richie is _certain_ he’s died and gone to Heaven. Fucking Heaven. Pun intended.

Eddie keens and his back arches painfully sharp. “Right there!”

Richie’s eyes widen and he thrusts in at the same exact angle, and wrings another shuddering wail from Eddie’s lips. Again, and again, and again: every time Richie thrusts just right, Eddie moans wantonly in response.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Richie, I’m going to come.”

Richie keeps going until he’s pushed back by a hand on his chest. He looks up, dazed, to see Eddie staring back at him. His hair is even more of a mess than before, his blush darker than ever, and Richie has never seen something—some _one_ so perfect.

“I want to come with you inside me,” Eddie tells him between pants. “Grab the lube.”

His brain short circuits, but Richie does and smears more across his fingers. He pauses. “Condoms.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Shit, yeah, duh.” Again, his hand drops off the side of the seat to dig around in the same bag as before. He pulls out a box and makes a show of ripping it open. He eventually yanks one condom from the pack, tears off the foil, and sits up long enough to roll the latex over Richie’s cock.

“Shi-i-i-it,” Richie hisses as Eddie’s hand leaves him. “I could watch you do that all day.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I think there’s something much more productive you could be doing,” he says as he lays back again. The blanket underneath them is only half on the seats, and their skin sticks to the shitty faux-leather sets of the car, but neither can be bothered to fix it. It would take more maneuvering, and separating for far longer than either wants to.

Richie swallows and nods. “Okay. I’m going to… Okay.” He gives his dick a stroke to coat it with lube, then wipes his hand on the blanket.

Eddie smiles and his eyes soften. “Okay,” he replies.

The single word sends a renewed surge of confidence through Richie and he’s spurred into action. He pushes Eddie’s legs apart a little more, the shuffling closer. Eyes wide, he grasps his cock around the base and guides it to Eddie’s hole.

“Ready?” Richie asks, because he needs to hear it and because he needs another moment.

“Ready,” Eddie agrees.

Richie pushes forward and when the head of his prick pops past the ring of muscle, he gasps. “Fuck, fuck, holy shit, oh my god.” His eyes feel like they’re going to burst from his head with how wide they are. Eddie is like a vice around his cock, and burning hot.

Eddie shivers and clenches down on the intrusion, and in doing so wrings another round of swears from Richie’s mouth. “Go slowly,” Eddie grits out when Richie pauses to breathe.

Richie nods and pushes forward as slow as he can manage. Every couple seconds he has to stop and gasp for air; he’s bringing himself back from the edge of coming every single time, even though he wants nothing more than to chase that delicious feeling.

“Ah!” Eddie cries out.

“What? Fuck, did I hurt you?”

Eddie shakes his head with a faint grin. “No, no it’s good, Richie, I swear.”

“Oh,” Richie chokes out. “Good.” He pushes forward a little more and realizes there’s nowhere else for him to go. “Holy shit, I’m—I’m in.”  

“I can tell.” Eddie says.

It startles a laugh from Richie and shatters the tension that had been closing in on them. Richie realizes, perhaps belatedly, that this is just him and Eddie. No different than any other time they come together (okay, a lot different, but not _truly_ ).

Eddie grabs at his shoulder to pull him closer. Their chests brush and between them, Eddie’s stiff cock drools precome. “You can move, Richie.”

“If I move I’m going to come.”

Eddie snickers softly. He nuzzles at Richie’s face and sighs against his face. “Take your time,” he says quietly. “I don’t mind.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Richie hisses. Carefully, he pulls back and thrusts forward slowly. He braces one elbow on the seat and cups Eddie’s face with his free hand. “You feel—I can’t even describe it, Eds.”

He kisses Eddie before he can put up a fuss over the nickname, and Eddie mewls under him. Richie starts to move faster though he keeps the pressure gentle. It’s enough to be this close to Eddie, enough to listen to the faint rocking of the car on its wheels. Richie groans into the kiss and bites at Eddie’s bottom lip.

“I’m going to come,” Richie admits again. “Like, so fast.”

Eddie drops a hand between them to work his dick. “Yeah, okay. Okay.” Eddie nods and his eyes slip shut. He gasps as he strokes himself, and he shouts each time Richie grazes over his prostate. It’s the hottest thing Richie’s ever seen: Eddie sprawled out, sweating, out of control and not fussing over _anything_.

A strangled moan catches in Richie’s throat as he comes. He thrusts harder and unevenly as the orgasm takes over his body, and his eyes flutter shut with the force of it all. A hitched gasp catches his attention and Richie opens his eyes just in time to see Eddie come. His come spurts in two long jets and Richie stares at the contrast they make against Eddie’s skin.

Their breathing mingles and it’s as he inhales that Richie realizes the air has turned cool around them. He lifts his head to look out the window, and has to wipe away the steamed up fog to see outside. It’s dark—not quite late, but definitely not early—and Richie watches the chill of the evening air rustle the tree their parked under.

“I’m sticky,” Eddie complains.

Richie snorts. “You got wet wipes in that handy little bag of yours?” He asks as he leans over the side to grab the bag.

“Of course I bought wetwipes. What do you take me for, a neanderthal?”

Richie shakes his head. “I love you,” he says again as he finally retrieves the wipes from the bag. He tears open a package and wipes the cooling come off Eddie’s stomach, and then the excess lube from his thighs. Slowly, he pulls out. He watches Eddie wince and sigh as he goes, and watches Eddie relax once he’s out.

Richie peels off the condom and ties it haphazardly. “I’m just gonna,” he gestures to the window, but Eddie isn’t looking at him. Richie tosses it out the window and when he turns back to Eddie, he’s pinned with an unimpressed stare. Richie just shrugs. He picks up the wetwipe again and cleans himself off before throwing that out the window as well.

Eddie sits up and kisses Richie softly. “That was…”

Richie nods, grins. “Yeah. It was.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill has a much nicer car than Eddie; the three of them make a lot of memories in that car, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is where it technically starts to take place after _three piece romance_ , but you don't really have to read that to understand this!

It’s not long after—Eddie’s birthday is at the tail end of August, and they start dating Bill November that same year—that they start making new memories, in a new car. Well, not new- _new_. 1950 hasn’t been new for a long time. But Bill’s South Dakota is worlds nicer than Eddie’s Buick, and Richie could live on the soft, smooth leather of the seats. Front or back, it doesn’t matter to him.

Although, he is rather fond of the back, if he’s being honest. There’s no seatbelts because of the year it was made, and it’s (in Richie’s humble opinion) the best fucking thing ever. Richie revels in feeling rebellious as they drive, windows down and wind in their hair. He revels in the fact nothing cold and pointy digs into his back when they’re fooling around in the backseat.

 

Like now, he thinks. Bill’s got him pressed against the soft seats and where in Eddie’s Buick he’d be getting a bruise from the seatbelt, there’s nothing but smoothness under him.

“You’re th-thinking too much,” Bill murmurs against Richie’s neck. “E-eyes on me, Richie.”

Richie’s gaze snaps to Bill obediently. “Fuck.”

Bill just smiles back. He finishes unbuttoning Richie’s garish Hawaiian shirt and lays a row of kisses down the length of his chest. He tilts his head to one side and licks at one nipple, then the other. He kisses just above Richie’s belly button until Richie is squirming and laughing beneath him, and then Bill pulls back.

“Fuck,” Richie says again “I’m dying.”

Bill shakes his head. “Better m-m-make this quick, th-then.”

Even though he knows he’s teasing, Richie stops him with two hands on his face. He opens his mouth to speak but—as he is finding happens often with Bill, moreso than anyone else—he can’t think of what to say. Bill just smiles at him again and kisses him sweetly. Bill doesn’t even say anything but as their lips part, Richie feels at ease and loved and so unbelievably turned on it _hurts_.

Bill sits back and ignores Richie’s whine of protest. Bill makes quick work of his belt and jeans and yanks them down far enough to expose the bulge in his briefs. Then, he does the same to Richie, though he’s far more handsy and every skirting touch is the best kind of torture.

“Did you t-tell Eddie what we were do-doing tonight?” Bill asks as he grips Richie through his briefs. He holds Richie firmly and strokes him slowly; the fabric drags over Richie’s sensitive skin.

Richie nods though he can barely string Bill’s words together. “Yeah, he’s jealous. Said he’d be thinking about us.”

“Gonna be h-hard to do that biology exam with an e-er-erection.” Bill replies with a smirk.

Richie laughs and it melts into a moan. “I’ve never,” he gasps when Bill finally pulls his underwear down, exposing his cock to chilled night air. “I’ve never been so happy to _not_ be in AP Biology.” He pushes into Bill’s fist and whimpers when the touch disappears.

“S-same,” Bill replies. He sits back again and Richie watches him tug his own briefs down. Bill’s prick springs forward and Richie whimpers again. Bill’s smirk only widens and he strokes himself once, twice, until precome beads at the tip and Richie licks his lips.

Bill tilts forward again and he wraps one hand around his and Richie’s cock both; his long fingers curl easily around the girth and he starts to stroke.

Richie stares between them and keens. “Fuck, Bill, what the fuck.”

Bill huffs a laugh and kisses Richie’s forehead. “G-g-good?” He asks.

“You know it is, asshole,” Richie says affectionately. He hooks an arm around Bill’s neck and draws him in for a proper kiss. He can’t look at them, their dicks pressed together, or this will be over way too quick. It isn’t like he and Eddie never tried it—because, oh, they _did_ —but this is Bill’s cock, and it’s so different and so good and so hot.

The kiss breaks and Richie lets himself sneak a glance between them. Bill’s hand holds them tight as he strokes, and Richie can’t help thrusting into his grip. It disrupts the rhythm, but the catch of friction is worth it. Richie watches with wide eyes and mouth open as they writhe together, as the heads of their cocks brush and their precome mingles.

“Oh, fuck,” Richie whispers as he comes, suddenly. Bill is watching, too; their foreheads are pressed together and they watch Richie’s cock pulse and spill all over Bill’s hand and his own erection. Richie keens quietly as Bill’s hand keeps moving, and it’s too much but he doesn’t want it to stop.

Bill starts to fuck his fist, then, and Richie rocks with the motions. The glide is smoother because of Richie’s come, and Bill grunts and gasps on every push forward.

“R-Richie, I’m—!”

“Yeah, c’mon, Bill.” His cock is oversensitive but he doesn’t want Bill to let go. “Come on,” he says again.

Bill’s eyes close and his mouth drops open and he lets out a single shuddering breath. His come is warm as it covers his hand and their dicks and Richie almost wishes he could get hard again.

They breathe together for a while, foreheads still touching.

“Do you have wetwipes?” Richie asks quietly.

Bill snickers. “Do you think Eddie would e-e-ever come in this car if I d-didn’t?”

“Pun intended?” Richie asks with a wink.

Bill rolls his eyes and says, “y-y-yes.”

 

 

Eddie nearly screams when Richie knocks on the fogged-up window of Bill’s car. It seems to take everything in Bill’s power not to laugh at the stricken expression on his boyfriend’s face. Because he knows it’s not fair, Richie thinks—they deliberately didn’t tell Eddie that Richie would be here, although Richie didn’t have to be an ass about it.

Bill reaches over and unlocks the passenger side door so that Richie can slide into the front seat.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Eddie snaps.

Richie leans over the seat and smiles at the two. “I’m here for the show.”

Bill rolls his eyes. “Beep beep, Richie.”

Eddie still looks stricken but the expression is starting to fade. “Oh.” He says softly.

“If that’s okay.” Richie replies hurriedly. “We thought it’d be, uh.” He looks at Bill.

“A s-s-surprise.” Bill says as he thumbs a soothing pattern along the jut of Eddie’s hip. “But he can leave.”

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No this is. This is good.”

Richie grins. “I really didn’t want to have to bike all the way home.”

“You’re on thin ice, Tozier,” Eddie tells him. He opens his mouth for something else, another chunk to a lecture, but Bill’s lips on his neck turn his words into a moan. “Fuck.”

“I’ll say,” Richie says with wide eyes. He rests his chin on his arms as he watches with a dazed grin.

Bill shoots him another look, but it’s tinged with his smile. He laves his tongue over the hurt he sucked into Eddie’s skin, and when he pulls back he and Richie both marvel at the purpling skin. Eddie’s chest is heaving and his eyes—when he can keep them open—dart back and forth between Richie and Bill.

“What’s on the menu tonight, Bill? Richie asks as he rakes his gaze over Eddie’s body. His shirt is stretched and Richie wonders if Eddie even realizes how badly the collar is sagging around his neck.

“H-h-hadn’t decided yet. I take req-requests.” Bill smirks, even as Eddie gently knees him in the ribs.

“I always wanted to blow him _in_ a car, you know.” Because Bill has heard all about that tenth memory, and how cold it was but Richie’s mouth was so hot and how Eddie had practically been putty against the hood of the Buick. “I’m just not flexible enough,” Richie continues with a shrug. This time, it’s Bill’s body he leers at.

Bill grins. “Yeah, o-o-okay.” He pushes lightly and Eddie props himself up against the side of the car; Bill slides down Eddie’s body slowly. He pushes the hem of Eddie’s shirt up and kisses his stomach, the soft, extra roll of babyfat that’s still lingering.

Richie watches Eddie, who watches Bill. Bill undoes Eddie’s belt but doesn’t unloop it from his jeans. He lets it hang open along with the button and zipper before pulling Eddie’s jeans and underwear down together. Eddie whines softly when Bill’s breath ghosts over his stiff cock, and Richie marvels at the blush worsening on his cheeks.

Richie wonders if it’s as uncomfortable for Bill as it looks. He’s sprawled across most of the backseat with his back arched in a perfect curve, ass in the air and face pressed into the crease of Eddie’s hip. It’s somehow attractive and awful at the same time; Richie’s hard as rock in his jeans but his back aches just looking at Bill.

Eddie sighs softly, suddenly, and Richie realizes Bill has gotten started. His flushed lips are wrapped around the tip of Eddie’s dick and he’s suckling gently. Richie watches Bill throat work as he swallows, and Richie shudders at the thought of Eddie’s precome in Bill’s mouth.

“You’re being gross,” Eddie tells him between gasps. “I can see it on your face.”

Richie flips him off before leaning over the seat to kiss him. It’s a stretch, and it’s not comfortable, but it’s worth it to swallow Eddie’s little, sweet sounds. Richie pulls back with a parting tug on Eddie’s lower lip at the same time Bill takes Eddie’s cock entirely into his throat.

“Fuck, Bill,” Richie murmurs as he turns to look. Bill winks at him and hums around the girth between his lips. “Fu-u-u-uck,” Richie adds.

Eddie’s hand suddenly tangles in Richie’s hair and tugs. Reluctantly, Richie tears his gaze away from Bill to look at Eddie—and decides it’s not much of a sacrifice to trade one view for the other. Eddie is burning pink and his hair is mussed and sweaty. His eyes are wide and lips swollen and Richie kisses him again because he knows it’s what Eddie wants.

Richie and Eddie kiss until Eddie rears back with a moan. Startled, Richie looks at Bill and chokes. Bill’s eyes are closed, he looks like he’s having the time of his life, and Richie can just barely see his hand working between Eddie’s thighs.

“Bill, are you—?”

Bill winks again and somehow manages to smile around Eddie’s prick.

“He’s, fuck, he’s just touching me,” Eddie wails desperately. “Fuck, Bill, I’m gonna come.”

Bill hums again and that’s the tipping point. Richie feels dizzy, he doesn’t know where to look: watching Bill give head is almost as good as getting head from Bill, but watching Eddie come apart is always a fucking masterpiece. Richie feels cross-eyed as Eddie gasps and squirms and fucks his hips against Bill’s mouth.

Bill pulls back slowly after Eddie finishes. He licks his lips and motions Richie closer. He tangles a hand in Richie’s shirt to tug him into a kiss. Richie moans happily into the kiss and opens his mouth eagerly. Bill huffs something like a laugh and then he’s licking into Richie’s mouth and all Richie can taste is _Bill_ and fucking Eddie’s _come_.

And it should be gross—lord knows they could never try this shit with Eddie, he’d have an aneurysm—but all Richie feels is hot. He moans, loud and unashamed, into the kiss and tries to get closer. The back of the seat digs into his stomach but he pays it no mind as he chases Bill’s mouth.

It’s wet and sloppy and when they finally break apart, there’s a string of spit (maybe come, probably come) hanging between them.

“That’s disgusting,” Eddie says, faint. “Why is that so _hot_ , that’s absolutely revolting.”

Richie grins at Eddie. “C’mere, baby, gimme a kiss!”

Eddie scrambles to shove his softened prick back in his jeans while also trying to stay out of Richie’s grasp. “Oh fuck no! Nope! Go fuck yourself Tozier!”

“Wh-where’s the fun in that?” Bill asks. His cock is still pressing at the front of his slacks and Richie feels a pang of sympathy.

Eddie groans. “You’re both awful. Trade me spots, Richie. You look like you’re gonna fucking die if you don’t come soon.”

Richie climbs over the seat and topples into the back, half on Eddie and half on Bill. “Missed me, darlings?”

Bill rolls his eyes but pulls Richie up to sit the middle. Then, almost as an afterthought, he tugs Richie into his lap instead. Lightning quick fingers have both their jeans unzipped and boxers tucked aside.

Richie’s braces his hands on Bill’s shoulders as Bill’s hand curls around their dicks again. He’s been hard the whole time—Bill has too, he thinks, he’s sure—and knows this won’t take long. He looks over at Eddie and gestures him closer with a jerk of his head.

Eddie crawls over, cautious, and starts to kiss at Richie’s neck. “I like seeing you in his lap,” Eddie whispers. “Watching him take care of you.”

Richie keens suddenly and Bill’s grip around their dicks tightens. “I want him to fuck me.” Richie blurts. This time, Bill groans, and the pace of his hand kicks up. “I do,” Richie adds. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“I want that, too.” Eddie agrees. “I want him to fuck you. And me,” he clarifies with a devilish glint in his eyes. “And I want to fuck him.” His gaze slips to Bill.

“Ff-fuck,” Bill gasps as his cock starts to pulse. His come spills into their laps and over his fingers and Richie watches it happen with dazed eyes. He follows not long after, at the same moment Bill shudders and Eddie bites into his neck with a vicious force.

After they’ve all wiped down with wetwipes, none of them make any attempt to move.

“So,” Bill starts. “All of that s-sounds great.”

Eddie’s ears pink.

“It does.” Richie agrees, nodding at Eddie. “We’re gonna have to spread it out though. I don’t think we could fit it all into one night.”

Richie laughs when Eddie looks a little intrigued by the idea, and Bill just looks alarmed. “We should all be there, though.” Richie says after a moment. Bill and Eddie both nod in agreement.

“Who’s going first?” Bill asks as they finally make a move to leave. Eddie climbs into the front passenger seat with a grace Richie could only ever dream of having. Bill climbs into the driver’s seat and they all jump when he hits the horn with his elbow. “Sh-shit, sorry.”

Richie laughs as he relaxes in the backseat. “No biggie, Bill. As for who’s first…”

Eddie scoffs. “We’re not doing it tonight, it’s not like we need to know right this minute.” Though he squirms in his seat, like he’s thinking about it too. He shakes his head. “We’ll get naked, and see where it goes.”

Richie beams. “Perfect.”

 

 

 

Richie looks up at an awkward cough from Bill. Eddie looks up, too.

“M-my parents won’t be home this weekend.”

Richie is pretty sure he has a stroke, and judging from the way color lights up Eddie’s face the feeling is mutual. Richie’s never been so glad not to share lunch with the rest of the Losers. Not that they don’t know about them as a trio—but they definitely don’t need to know about their sex life. Not like this.

“Holy shit,” Richie breathes. “Do… do we wanna?” He asks, looking a little frantically between his boyfriends.

Eddie seems to swallow his nerves and nods. “Let’s get together this weekend. No expectations, okay? Just. We just let it happen.”

Richie’s heart beats double time, and Bill gives a dazed little sigh. “I love you so much,” Richie says.

“D-d-ditto.” Bill agrees. “My parents are l-leaving Thursday night, and won’t be back until S-Sunday.”

“That’s plenty of time.” Eddie says confidently, even as the tips of his ears are still bright pink.

“Holy shit,” Richie says again, grinning this time.

Eddie rolls his eyes affectionately and Bill shoves at him to scoot over, and just like that the tension—but not the anticipation—is easier to handle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, where _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_ could technically be considered a seduction technique.

Richie and Eddie drive over to Bill’s, and the drive is silent the entire way. Granted, it’s about a six minute drive all told, but still. They get out of the Buick silently, and as they walk up to the Denbrough porch, Bill is waiting at the front door for them.

For a moment, they all just stare at each other.

“Who’s ready to lose what’s left of their childhood innocence tonight?” Richie asks, shuffling his feet. Much like at lunch a few days earlier, the tension breaks again. There’s still the lingering anticipation, excitement, uncertainty—just like there was when Eddie and Richie had their first time. First _major_ time.

“I hate you,” Eddie mutters with a grin as they finally follow Bill inside. They drop their bags in the living room and Bill leads the way to the kitchen.

“Ok-okay,” Bill says as he gets three cups down from the cupboard. “This… this isn’t a h-huge deal.”

Richie opens his mouth to retort but Eddie pins him with a glare. Richie ditches the joke and says instead: “You’re stifling my creative talent, baby, we can’t keep doing this.”

Bill keeps talking, as though he hadn’t heard. “It’s not any d-different than the other times.”

“Except there’s a bed.” Eddie chimes in immediately.

Richie raises an eyebrow.

“It’s just—we’re always in the cars.” Eddie insists. “It’s a little different.”

Bill shrugs as he slides the cups of juice over to each of them. “Okay, it’s a l-little different. But not much. Like you s-s-said, Eddie, we just play it by e-e-ear.”

Eddie nods.

“Why don’t we watch some movies?” Richie announces with a swing of his glass, very nearly spilling some. “That’ll take our minds off the amazing sex in our impending future.”

Eddie snorts into his cup and Bill grins.

 

Richie is actually pretty enthralled with the film when the other two evidently decide to team up against him. It’s not his fault, okay? He just loves _Ferris Bueller’s Day Off_. It encapsulates who he is as a person. He’s mouthing the words along with the film ( _pardon my French, but Cameron is so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you’d have a diamond_ ) when a pair of lips on the side of his neck startle him.

He cranes his head to the side to look at Bill, who’s only just barely pulling back. He whips around to look at Eddie, who’s flushed high in the cheeks with a hand laid over Richie’s arm.

“Uh.” Even as he speaks, he sits back and tilts his head to the side so Bill can resume peppering kisses over his neck. “Matthew Broderick gets you guys going, too, huh? I knew there was a reason I loved you both.”

Eddie shakes his head and slides his hand up Richie’s arm to his hair, to tangle in his already knotted up locks. “Beep beep, Richie,” he says quietly.

Bill bites into Richie’s neck and worries the skin until Richie’s toes are curling in the carpet.

“Fuck, we should take this upstairs,” Richie manages to bite out. He’s gone from zero to sixty in no time flat—not an unusual occurrence for him, it’s like some deity blessed him with incredible horniness all the fucking time—but it puts his mind at ease to see Bill and Eddie’s cocks straining at the front of their pants.

They scramble up the stairs in no time and Bill practically slams the door shut behind them. Richie looks between the two of them with an expectant grin.

“You two were the ones seducing me, I think you should follow through.” Richie holds out his arms and gestures a bit with his hands.

Eddie and Bill share a glance and a smile before they’re both stepping toward him. Bill’s a little taller and Eddie’s a little shorter but they work in a fluid tandem. Eddie takes up sucking hickies into Richie’s neck and his hands fall to Richie’s belt and jeans. Bill nibbles at Richie’s ear, while undoing the buttons on his obnoxiously bright button-up.

Richie shivers as his clothes start to loosen. Eddie’s fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers and Bill’s long, elegant hands glide over his chest.

“I don’t think I can stay standing,” Richie admits as he sways on his feet. “There’s about zero blood going to my brain right now.”

Bill laughs softly against his ear and bites down on the lobe. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Walk back.”

Richie shivers again and does as told. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed and slowly he falls backward. He stares up at his boyfriends, both of them looming over him from this angle, and moans quietly.

“Please tell me one of you is fucking me tonight,” is out of his mouth before he can stop it. Neither of the other boys seem surprised by his outburst.

Bill strips out of his shirt and drops his pants so fast, Richie is sure it’s magic. Then, he’s the first to climb onto the bed after Richie, and says lowly, “w-well, since you asked so nicely.”

Eddie laughs as he follows suit and peels off his own clothes. Together, bodies mostly nude and the sensations electric, Richie and Bill watch Eddie strip. They watch him pull his shirt off and fold it into a neat pile before setting it on Bill’s desk. He does the same with his shorts, and hangs his belt over the back of Bill’s desk chair.

He’s wearing briefs—always briefs, always cute, and Richie is dead convinced his boyfriend buys them a size too small, deliberately. Eddie shuffles awkwardly at the edge of the bed before Bill beckons him closer with a nod.

They shift and adjust and wiggle until Richie’s head is on the pillows and Bill and Eddie are on either side of him.

“Who do you want, Richie?” Eddie asks softly as he rubs his hand smoothly over Richie’s chest. He flicks at a nipple idly, like an afterthought, and Richie shivers. There’s no judgement in his voice, so Richie doesn’t feel bad when his eyes slide to Bill. “I kind of figured,” Eddie says quietly, excitement laced into his own tone.

They both look up at Bill, and he just grins in response. He rolls away from Richie to dig around in the bedside table, producing a condom and a little bottle of lube. He shakes them in his hand and Eddie and Richie both snicker.

“S-s-spread your legs, Richie,” Bill murmurs as he clambers between them. Richie stretches his legs out to either side and he’s so tall that one foot hangs off the edge of the bed. Eddie stays closer beside him. Even through the fabric of his briefs, Richie can feel Eddie’s erection against his hip. It seems to burn against his skin and Richie keens at the feeling.

He turns his head and Eddie kisses him swiftly, as though reading his mind. While they kiss, messy and wet, Bill draws Richie’s boxers down his legs and tosses them aside. Richie keeps moaning into Eddie’s mouth, and the little noises increase in pitch and desperation as Bill’s fingertips glide over Richie’s skin.

A hand curls around his cock, soft and sure, and Richie knows it’s Eddie’s. He strokes slowly but firm, not quite the way Richie likes it but a good way to torment him. Richie breaks the kiss with a gasp as Eddie palms over the head of his cock, smearing precome over his hand.

Richie tenses at the first brush of Bill’s finger against his hole, but relaxes when Bill kisses his knee gently, and Eddie bites at the hinge of his jaw. This isn’t new territory, they’ve all fingered each other on occasion. But it is different this time. The first and second fingers are easy and Richie rides them with desperate, panting gasps the longer Bill fucks him. Eddie kisses every other noise off his lips and swallows his moan when Bill starts to thrust with three fingers.

Bill’s thrusts slow as he lets Richie adjust to the size. He adds more lube and spills a little on the sheets—something that makes Eddie wrinkle his nose, which makes Richie laugh and relax more.

Eddie strokes Richie through it until he bats Eddie’s hand away with a soft, “gonna come,” as an explanation. He turns his attention to Bill then and nods. “C’mon,” Richie murmurs. “Please, Bill.”

Bill groans deep in his chest and nods. Before he can even move, Eddie is reaching over with the condom out of its packet and rolling the latex over Bill’s cock. He smirks, and strokes, and Bill’s hips jump into the touch eagerly.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Richie whines. His eyes are wide and pupils blown as he watches Eddie’s hand on Bill’s dick. “Fuck.” He whines again as he drops his head back onto the pillows.

Bill leans over and kisses Eddie at the same time he pushes his hand away. He nods at Richie, and Eddie nods back. Once more Eddie’s hand wraps around Richie’s prick instead, even as he cries out at the sensation—it distracts him as Bill starts to press in. The head of Bill’s cock pushes past the ring of muscle and he stills.

Eddie’s distraction works, and Richie’s cock stays hard, but his chest is heaving as he adjusts. “Fuck, Bill, _shit._ I guess we don’t call you Big Bill for no-nothing,” he manages to squeeze out. Bill rolls his eyes, and Eddie grips the base of Richie’s dick and tears a high-pitched squeak from him instead.

“You good?” Bill asks quietly as he pushes in a little more.

Richie nods and spreads his legs wider. His hair is plastered to his face with sweat and he writhes under Bill and Eddie. Bill keeps pushing forward until his hips are flush with Richie’s and they’re both breathing heavily. Bill stills, and they all stare at each other.

“How’s it feel, Richie?” Eddie asks as he uses his free hand to brush hair from Richie’s face. His stroking has slowed, almost to a lazy pace, but Richie’s dick is still firm in his grasp.

“Big,” he pants. “Good.” He adds. He looks up at Bill with heavy-lidded eyes and nods. “C’mon, Bill, please.”

Bill shudders and starts to roll his hips in small, careful circles. Richie’s legs curl around his hips and drag him closer so that Bill practically falls forward. He props himself up over Richie with one elbow pressed into the bedding, leaving room so that Eddie can still crowd them close.

“Fuck, Eds,” Bill gasps. He reaches out and hauls Eddie in with a hand around his neck for a kiss. Against his lips, he whispers. “Wis-sh you could feel him. So tight. S’hot.”

Eddie shivers and keens. “Yeah?”

Bill nods and rubs their noses together. “He’s s-so good,” Bill says as he looks at Richie, never pulling far from Eddie while he does it.

Richie looks wrecked; sweaty and flushed in an uneven layer of red; his cock is drooling on his stomach and his hips are bouncing with each thrust of Bill’s, meeting him partway every time.

“Love you,” Bill says, not to either boy in particular but just to them both. Richie nods and throws an arm over his eyes as he starts to moan louder, heavier. Eddie smiles softly and speeds up his hand on Richie’s dick. “Will you come for us, Richie?” Bill asks as he thrusts harder, pulls out farther to press in deeper. His thrusts are even, measured, deep and rough where Eddie’s touch is quick and light.

Richie wails and his hips move like he doesn’t know which sensation to chase. He grinds back against Bill and thrusts into Eddie’s hands, but he throws off both their rhythms when he tries and Bill quickly pins his hips to the bed with his spare hand.

“Richie,” Bill starts again.

“Will you come for us?” Eddie says, quiet and sudden, clearly keenly aware of how both gazes snap to him.

Richie bites his lip hard enough to hurt and suddenly he’s coming. He fights against Bill’s hold on his hip to no avail Bill doesn’t stop fucking him and Eddie doesn’t stop stroking him. He comes in long spurts over Eddie’s hand and across his own stomach.

As he goes lax, Bill slows to a stop. Richie shakes his head quickly. “No, no, Bill, c’mon. You gotta come.”

Bill grins and dips down to kiss Richie sweetly on the lips. “I don’t w-wanna hurt you.”

Richie pouts. “You won’t,” he insists, squirming. He continues to pout even as Bill pulls out and tosses the condom to the garbage. “Spoilsport.”

“Guys who got to come already don’t get to c-co-complain,” Bill chides before kissing Richie again. “I’ve got an idea.” He sits back on his knees and looks between his boyfriends with a grin.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and Richie gestures as if to say _get on with it_.

“Eddie,” Bill starts. He leans in and lets the words ghost over Eddie’s neck. “Let Richie suck you off, and I ju-just wanna watch.”

Richie still pouts. “Just watch?” He asks.

“You’re always s-saying you want to su-suck him off,” Bill points out. “I want to see if you live up to the hype.”

Richie’s eyes glint with determination and he nods. “Big Bill, you _know_ I will.” He looks at Eddie then, eyebrows raised. “Is this okay?”

Eddie is flushed pink and his lower lip is wet, mouth open. He nods. “Yeah.” He agrees. “I showered today, so, you know.”

Richie’s laugh is smothered against Eddie’s skin as he starts to kiss and nibble along the layer of babyfat over his stomach. Richie sucks a hickey against his hip and lets Eddie’s cock brush along his cheek. “C’mere,” Richie commands. “Get a little closer, baby, c’mon.”

Eddie shuffles over and cants his hips forward. Richie grins, the striking image of a cat that got the canary, and opens his mouth to take Eddie’s dick.

Bill sits back and watches as he brings a hand to his own erection. A shiver runs through Eddie as the head of his cock slips into Richie’s mouth, and a little cry spills from Eddie’s lip as Richie starts to suckle. Bill sighs to himself, happily, as he starts to stroke. He loses himself in Eddie’s hitched and whining gasps, the wet sounds of Richie sloppily taking more and more of Eddie into his mouth. Each time Eddie brushes the back of his throat, Richie moans lowly, and either he doesn’t have a gag reflex or he powers through it.

Richie moans, loud enough that it’s barely muffled despite the girth between his lips, once he’s taken as much of Eddie as he can. That is, once he’s taken _all_ of Eddie. Richie’s lips are flushed to Eddie’s groin and Bill watches Eddie’s his strain with the urge to thrust, the strength it takes not to give in.

Richie looks at Bill sideways, and Bill reaches out to bring one of Eddie’s hand to Richie’s hair. “He wants you to,” Bill explains as he helps Eddie knot his fingers in Richie’s curls.

Eddie whines and pulls his hips back, then pushes forward. He slides into Richie’s mouth with no resistance, even as he speeds up his pace.

Bill’s gaze locks onto Richie’s adams apple bobbing each time he swallows, and the vulgar, slick noises of Richie trying to breath and swallow and moan all at the same time. When Eddie drops a second hand into Richie’s hair and starts to thrust in earnest, clearly losing himself in the pleasure, Richie’s moans get louder and more eager.

Bill bites his own lip and strokes himself faster, matching the rhythm of Eddie’s hips as he fucks into Richie’s mouth. “Fuck,” he mutters, and Richie looks at him again. He’s smirking around Eddie’s cock and doesn’t look away.

Eddie’s eyes are closed and his moans are short and quick, getting higher pitched and more frequent the closer he gets to coming. Bill doesn’t— _can’t_ —break eye contact with Richie, even as the heavy and intense stare focused on him barrels him to the edge of orgasm.

Richie lets out a soft moan and his eyes flutter briefly, but don’t quite close, and Bill is done for. He thrusts into his fist, jostling Richie’s legs where they still hug his thighs, and comes. Bill’s come catches on his fingers and spills onto Richie’s groin, over his valiantly half-hard dick. Richie groans again and his own hips twitch reflexively at the feeling, and his moan tips Eddie over.

Eddie cries out, loud and sharp, and pushes his hips forward and holds Richie down. Richie swallows easily even as Eddie’s hips swirl in little aborted circles. When Eddie finally falls back, spent, Richie just licks his lips proudly. After a few moments of heavy breathing—mainly from Eddie—they all grin at each other.

Eddie is the first to move. He moves closer and rubs along Richie’s jaw, kisses the tender skin and even kisses his lips, licks into his mouth and chases the taste of his own spunk with a wrinkling of his nose. “Love you,” he sighs as he pulls back.

By unspoken agreement they all clamber off the bed and shuffle to the bathroom. They help wipe each other down, and Bill delights in cleaning up Richie and seeing him struggle not to get worked up all over again. After they’re clean to Eddie’s liking, they go back to the bedroom. Bill and Richie help Eddie strip the bedsheets and change them, both quietly relieved when Eddie mutters to save the laundry for tomorrow.

They slide into bed with only a little knocking of knees and elbows, and pull the spare comforter over them. Bill is so tall his feet stick out the bottom but he likes it that way; Richie has an arm hanging off the bed, but he’s out so quick it doesn’t even matter. Eddie is sandwiched between the two, warm and coddled and content, not a complaint in the world. He leans back against Bill and together they watch Richie sleep.

Not a pretty sight, mind; Richie mouth hangs open and he snores faintly, and talks in his sleep every so often. Eddie grins and settles into Bill’s arms around him.

“Love you,” Eddie says softly.

Bill grins against Eddie’s neck. “L-love you too.”

“Love you guys,” Richie slurs without opening his eyes.

They wait a moment to see if Richie will say anything else, but soon enough he starts to snore again. Eddie and Bill smother their laughter in a kiss instead.

 

 

Richie wakes slowly, and realizes not only has he moved in the bed but he’s far too warm. He opens his eyes one at a time and the world is a little blurry—his glasses must be on the bedside table, he thinks—but he’s familiar with the mops of hair on either side of him.

Bill is latched onto his neck like a leech, sucking a line of hickeys down the length of Richie’s neck and running his hands over Richie’s bare body. Eddie is on his other side, gasping wetly in Richie’s ear while he trails his hand along Richie’s inner thigh. His fingers are wet, a little sticky, and Richie spreads his legs wider in anticipation.

Even so, Richie still squirms under the attention. “I hate you both, so much,” he mumbles in a sleep heavy voice. He doesn’t need to keep his eyes open to know Eddie and Bill are sharing a smirk over his head.

“No you don’t,” they say together.

No, he _really_ doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it for now, hope you enjoyed reading it! subscribe to the series as i'll almost certainly write more for these 3 in the future!


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